


The Scent of Home.

by fuckityfrank



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Depression, Get it?, M/M, Memories, Morning Routines, but also MOURNING routines, im a sick fuck, living through loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 04:06:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2567612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckityfrank/pseuds/fuckityfrank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank struggles with depression and life after Gerard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scent of Home.

   ****

Today has been a day of reminiscent smells. From the minute he woke up Frank has been flooded with memories. The smell of Gerard’s hair from the other side of the bed makes him want to curl up in a ball and disappear. Instead he shoves back the duvet and stretches from the tips of his tattooed fingers to the ends of his toes. He lets out a sigh and rubs his eyes as his face splits with a yawn. Swinging his legs over the side of the mattress, he resists the urge to pull his feet back when they hit the freezing floor. For the 500th time he tells himself he will buy a rug next time he’s at Target so his toes don't have to suffer every morning.

His joints pop as he shuffles to the bathroom to drain his bladder. Frank almost breaks down when the scent of Gerard’s aftershave assaults him. He blinks the tears out of his eyes and goes about his business. He showers, shaves, combs his hair, and stares into the mirror at the dark circles under his eyes.

He had only just begun to be able to sleep through the night. No matter how much rest he gets, he’s always exhausted. He always wants to crawl back in bed and cry into Gerard’s pillow till sleep takes him over and he gets a few hours of obliviousness. He’s too afraid to hold Gerard’s pillow. The fear that one day he will pick it up and it will no longer smell like Gerard is crippling. What if one day he can’t remember what Gerard smells like?

He turns away from the mirror, wraps up in a towel and trudges out of his room and down the hall to the laundry room. He switches the laundry and picks out clean clothes to wear to work. His boss gave him a month off but Frank was back at work 3 days later. Sitting around doing nothing just gave him time alone with his mind. Being alone with his mind is never good.  

He dresses with the same robotic movements as he always does and leaves the laundry room with a basket of clean clothes that he will probably never fold. Gerard used to do the laundry. The man spent 4 years working at a JC Penny and their clothes always looked ready for a display. Frank drops the basket of clothes on the couch and plops down beside it. Even the smell of laundry detergent is enough to make tears well in his eyes. The coffee pot hasn’t been touched in 4 months. The memories associated with it are just too strong. He’d bought it for Gerard last Christmas because their old one had been looking a little worse for wear...and dumping half the grounds back in the pot. Now, the scent of fresh coffee is enough to reduce him to a sobbing pile of tattooed despair.

He walks from the couch to the kitchen and opens the fridge. As is the norm now, nothing looks remotely appetizing. He knows he needs to eat though. It wouldn't be very professional to pass out while tattooing someone. He grabs a banana out of the fruit bowl and a poppy seed muffin from the package on the counter. Frank will stop for coffee on the way to work just like he has every day for the past 4 months.

He walks to the dining room table and shoves some sketches and his colored pencils out of the way. He sets the muffin on the table and peels his banana. He doesn’t taste it as he takes bites and chews mechanically. He looks across the table and sees an unfinished sketch he’d been working on the night before sticking out from under a messy stack of Gerard’s old sketches. There’s a pile of Gerard’s art stuff still strewn across the table but Frank hasn’t had the heart to touch any of it let alone move anything yet. He pulls his sketch towards himself and picks up a pencil to continue working on it while he eats.

When he’s finished with his muffin he swipes the crumbs from the tabletop into his palm and throws them away. He blatantly ignores the sink full of dirty dishes and throws on his coat. He bends over to grab his satchel and walks back towards the table. He scoops up the sketches, stuffs them into a folder, and throws the colored pencils in the bottom of his bag. He doesn’t care if all the lead breaks and they will be impossible to sharpen later.

Another day of tattooing infinity symbols on white girl’s wrists lays ahead of him. It has been 124 days since Gerard died and Frank still believes with some part of himself that when he gets back Gerard will be waiting with a kiss and the scent of home.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://fr4nkie.co.vu)?


End file.
